


Helping Hands

by shadowshrike



Series: Emerald Moon AU [2]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Academy Era, Bisexual Male Character, First Time, Friends With Benefits, Friendship, Hand Jobs, M/M, No Romance, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-22
Updated: 2019-09-22
Packaged: 2020-10-26 08:01:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,268
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20738912
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shadowshrike/pseuds/shadowshrike
Summary: Dimitri is wound up as always, so Sylvain tries to help him relax. When his offer to go out on the town falls flat, he decides to take a more direct method.





	Helping Hands

“Come on, Your Highness! You’re not doing anyone any favors by being so uptight right before a battle. Come out with me. Unwind a little bit. Your reading will still be there in the morning.”

Dimitri glared at the redhead who’d placed a palm directly in the center of his book, interrupting his work. The book in question was an ancient one with crumbling pages and a half-unthreaded spine about Kingdom politics in the era of Loog. Dimitri would have shoved Sylvain’s hand away, but he’d had enough trouble not ripping the delicate tome apart without getting in a brawl over it.

The prince sighed. “Sylvain, for the last time, carousing with women does not relax me. Please leave.”

“I’m not talking about ‘carousing with women’,” Sylvain protested, leaning harder on the book as his free hand rubbed thoughtfully at his chin. Dimitri's eyes fixed to the flimsy page straining beneath the added pressure. “I mean, I don’t want to set you up for failure. I’m not sure if a guy like you could handle more than one.”

“Sylvain…” 

He lifted his hands to placate the increasingly furious prince, nearly taking a bit of paper sticking to his palm with it. “Hey, take it easy. No need to give me that ‘I’m going to knock your head in the next time we spar’ look. I know you’re terrible at flirting, but that’s why I’ve got your back.” He winked, ignoring how it intensified Dimitri’s disapproval. “We’ll find a nice girl to warm your bed for tonight. Then, I’ll chase her off in the morning so you don’t need to feel guilty. A perfect plan!”

Dimitri huffed, “That is highly inappropriate behavior for a prince, and you know that, Sylvain!”

“Maybe you could use to be more inappropriate,” Sylvain countered with a widening grin.

He was in one of those pig-headed moods again, Dimitri noted without amusement. They’d been coming on more frequently since starting class at Garreg Mach. Not that Sylvain hadn’t been a handful since they were children, always getting into the most trouble despite being the eldest who should have known better, but since they began fighting to kill rather than holding mock battles, his smiles had become as permanent and insincere as Claude’s.

If Dimitri thought humoring Sylvain’s conquests would bring back his real smile, he might have been tempted to say yes despite the moral consequences.

“I’m not going out with you,” Dimitri reiterated. He stood, intending to show his uninvited guest the door. “Please have a good time without me. But if I hear you’ve been bothering the village women again…”

“Then...what if I stay here instead?” Sylvain’s fake smile had vanished. 

“Pardon?”

The redhead’s expression remained serious as he stepped towards the desk instead of retreating. “Well, you won’t go pick up chicks with me, but that doesn’t change the fact that you need a good roll in the hay to get your mind off things. So I can stay here and...help you out.”

Dimitri blinked, suddenly all-too-aware of how intense his friend’s stare could be. Sheltered or not, he’d spent enough time around the knights (and Sylvain) to recognize that line. He wished he hadn’t, so he could give his friend another blissful ‘no, thank you’ instead of having to swallow to moisten his suddenly dry mouth. 

“Are you...propositioning me?”

Sylvain's smile was all teeth and far too close for comfort. “I thought that was obvious.”

“You can’t be serious,” Dimitri muttered. He stood his ground, though he felt like a mouse puffing out its chest to a lion.

“Why not?” Sylvain drawled. “I mean, sure, I prefer a woman with some firm assets and hips you can really hold onto,” Dimitri definitely hadn’t needed the gestures for emphasis, “but it feels good either way. Plus, you're my friend and you desperately need it. Win-win.”

Needing sex ‘desperately’ was overstated, in Dimitri’s opinion, but he couldn’t deny the longer Sylvain smiled at him like that, the more it seemed like maybe not the worst idea he’d ever heard. It would keep Sylvain from getting into more trouble tonight, for one. Also, for as crass as Sylvain could be, he was good to his friends and, by all accounts, already had more sexual experience than most of Garreg Mach put together. He’d hardly be the worst choice to learn from.

And as long as Dimitri was being perfectly honest with himself, ever since puberty hit Sylvain like a club to the head, the guy was undeniably handsome. Dimitri may have spent a few of his non-nightmare filled nights as a kid wondering what it would be like to have that roguish smile and perceptive gaze turned on him with less-than-pure intent. 

Dimitri's heart hammered in his chest, trying to remember why reading was more important than finding out how accurate his dreams were.

“For a notorious flirt, that was the least romantic proposal I’ve ever heard,” he said at last, hoping Sylvain hadn’t noticed how he licked his lips before he said it.

Sylvain’s mouth twisted into a smirk. No such luck.

“Hey, if you want me to woo you the same way I would one of those lovely ladies, I can. I was only trying to be upfront about my intentions,” he purred. Then the flirtatious smile dropped again. “Look, you’re not some random conquest. It’s important to me that this is a good experience for you, Your Highness.”

Dimitri frowned. “If you truly care about that, you can start by calling me by my name.”

“Don’t worry, I don’t use titles in bed,” Sylvain countered. He flashed his prince a saucy wink. “Not unless you’re into that sort of thing.”

“I’m not _ into _ anyt…” Nope, that was way too damning. “...That.”

Sylvain’s smile was gone for a third time, and at this rate, Dimitri was sure to get whiplash. He couldn’t take being flirted with and then having cold water dumped on his head by that stern expression over and over. 

“Wait, hold up. Are you a virgin?" When the prince didn't answer, Sylvain scowled. "This is a serious question, Dimitri.”

There it was. The thing he’d been hoping Sylvain wouldn’t bring up. Not that Dimitri was ashamed - he had far more important things to do at the academy than experiment with pleasure- but it wasn’t the sort of thing that felt good to admit to a friend who was basically a sex god and still teased you about not knowing how to flirt with anyone.

“I haven’t exactly had time for courting anyone since coming of age, so...yes, I am,” Dimitri replied, meeting Sylvain’s gaze defiantly. “If that is an issue for you, please leave without another word. I won’t be offended, but I would rather not discuss it further.”

To his credit, Sylvain didn’t laugh or walk out the door. His brow scrunched in that way he did when he was really worried, like when he or Felix or Ingrid came back from battle with their armor poked full of holes, and his voice softened. “Hey now, don’t go putting words in my mouth. I only wanted to know, so I can give you the best time possible. Don’t worry, I have a ton of experience with virgins.”

“That doesn’t make me feel any better,” Dimitri muttered, eyes darting away.

Then Sylvain’s hand was on his upper arm, rubbing up and down in a soothing gesture Dimitri hadn’t indulged in since they were little boys who knew nothing of death or station or sacrifice, and the prince did feel better. If only a tiny bit. 

“Just relax. You trust me, right?” Sylvain murmured.

“With my life,” Dimitri answered truthfully.

That warm hand on his arm stilled and Sylvain sucked in a breath through his teeth. Curious, Dimitri glanced back up at his friend, who was now close enough to have to look down to see his prince. He’d never realized how many flecks of color there were in Sylvain’s eyes before, or how wide his pupils could get.

“It isn’t fair that you have no idea how hot that is,” Sylvain groaned.

“What?”

The redhead’s hands started moving again, but this time it was to undo the clasp of his cape. The heavy fabric rustled as it hit the floor. “Let’s just say that fake compliments are way less of a turn-on than the real deal.”

Dimitri let Sylvain push him back towards the bed, working off the layers of his jacket. “I don’t want to know how you know that, do I?”

“We’ll save those stories for another time. For now, let me help you, okay?” Dimitri’s gauntlets hit the floor, followed by everything else that had been on his upper body moments ago. He was horrifically, shockingly bare like this, a field of scarred skin on display for Sylvain’s inspection. He gasped at the sensation of a naked hand colliding with his own, intertwining their fingers.

Sylvain’s voice rolled over him like hot tea on a cold, winter night, warming him from the inside out. “All you need to do is sit on your bed, lay back, and tell me what you like. Sound good?”

“I like your smile,” Dimitri mumbled, immediately embarrassed by his own honesty. That wasn’t the sort of thing people were supposed to say in bed. No wonder he was terrible at flirting.

Sylvain laughed, but not too unkindly. “Not what I meant, but I like yours, too.” He swept a thumb over Dimitri’s lips, stealing the air flowing through them. “I wish I got to see it more.”

As if that wasn’t Sylvain’s fault. Always causing trouble and making Dimitri deal with the political ramifications. “You would see it more often if you stopped…”

Sylvain pressed a finger against his frowning lips.

“Shh. No lectures in bed. It’s just the two of us tonight. Let me take care of you…” That finger trailed downward, following the cut of his jaw, then spread wide with his others to explore the expanse of Dimitri’s chest, well-defined by a literal lifetime of combat. “Feel good?”

“Y-yes…” the prince whispered. It was hard not to get lost in the heat of Sylvain’s skin against his own, even though it was only his hands. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to steady his breathing before he made more of a fool of himself by shaking like a leaf barely holding on at the end of autumn.

He should have known Sylvain, the cruel friend that he was, wouldn’t allow it.

“Won’t you open your beautiful eyes for me?” A syrupy voice begged. Goddess, was that Sylvain’s breath on his ear? “I want to lose myself in them, darling.”

Dimitri had enough pride left to scowl. “Please don’t use your lines on me.”

“Sorry, sorry, habit,” Sylvain was further away now, and his apology sounded genuine, at least.

Suddenly, a pair of fingers hooked beneath the prince’s chin, Sylvain’s thumb riding up the length of his jaw. They pushed up, insistent. 

“Look at me, Dimitri,” Sylvain commanded.

Whether it was the cold of being bare-chested in his room, the intimate contact of skin on skin, or the power in Sylvain’s voice, Dimitri couldn’t control the shudder that raced through him. His eyes opened of their own accord, staring straight into the ever-shifting amber of Sylvain’s.

“...damn…” he whispered, struck speechless by whatever he saw in his prince’s gaze. That didn’t stop his other hand from moving, tearing at the buttons of his own shirt in a desperate attempt to get to a similar state of undress. Dimitri would have offered to help, but he feared one of his involuntary shivers might accidentally rip the thing in two.

A wicked part of his brain wondered if Sylvain might like that. It didn’t seem like something worth risking during his first time having someone else’s hands on him.

Sylvain was an expert at taking off his own clothes, anyhow. His long torso, made firm from the same battle-filled life the prince had known, stretched above Dimitri like the half-naked sculpture of Loog’s knights he had once seen during his tour of the Kingdom’s finest art galleries. He’d been ashamed at the sudden fullness between his legs when he’d first seen it. An art gallery was not an appropriate place for the crown prince of Faerghus to be thinking about sex.

It was a good thing he didn’t need to be ashamed about his arousal here because there was no avoiding it with how Sylvain arched his back to toss away his shirt, watching Dimitri’s eyes trace every subtle ripple of muscle. He smirked, the pad of his thumb stroking over Dimitri’s bottom lip where it had fallen lax. “Good to know you like what you see. I wasn’t expecting such a strong reaction out of you.”

“I…” Dimitri’s voice cracked. He cleared his throat and tried again. “I hope it isn’t inappropriate for me to say you’re an exceptionally handsome man.”

Sylvain preened above him with a fleeting laugh that raced through Dimitri’s keyed up body like lighting. “Not inappropriate at all, given our circumstances. You’re pretty spectacular, yourself. Don’t worry, your secret is safe with me.” 

His smile turned wicked. Dimitri’s chest squeezed like a horse was standing on it. Then Sylvain bent down, nestled his head next to Dimitri’s ear and whispered, “The truth is, I’d love to do this again sometime. I bet you’ll be amazing in bed once we figure out what you like. Don’t you think so, Dimitri?”

Sylvain’s lips dove against the curve of Dimitri’s neck, mouthing and sucking and biting in a sudden surge of passion. Dimitri wasn’t prepared for that. The prince convulsed against the bed, fingers tearing into the sheets as his body bucked and a pathetic whimper pushed past his throat. Sylvain was seemingly prepared, on the other hand, because Dimitri’s grinds upward were being met by the meat of a palm pressing down against his trousers, absolutely wonderful and satisfying but also not even close to enough. 

“S-Sylvain...please,” he hissed.

Bless Sylvain for his mercy, he didn’t ask the prince any humiliating questions about what he wanted. Still using only one hand, since the other was occupied by pressing Dimitri’s wrist over his head and Goddess was that doing some unexpected things to the heat blazing under his skin, Sylvain worked open his fly and shimmied down his trousers enough to get a hand on him.

“You’re close already, aren’t you?” There were Sylvain’s honey-coated words dripping into his ear again, chased by nips and licks to areas Dimitri had never dreamed could be sensitive. “It’s alright. Give in for me. I want to feel you come apart for me…” The pumps of his hand sped up, driving faster with every hitch of the prince’s breath, every forceful tremor of his body. 

“Come on, let yourself go...Dimitri.”

Something about hearing his name groaned by Sylvain directly into his ear was what did it. Dimitri’s orgasm crashed into him like a tidal wave, effortlessly tossing off the hand that was pinning him to the bed without meaning to as his hips lifted and his balls convulsed to spill across his chest. He let Sylvain stroke him through it slowly, squeezing out every last drop he could. It was like nothing Dimitri had ever felt before - being so close to someone else, having them choose to give him pleasure like this - and he was starting to understand why Sylvain was so obsessed with chasing women if it often ended in this.

Dimitri heaved a giant sigh and slumped back against the sheets, exhausted. He was so tired he almost doesn’t notice Sylvain rolling off of him and silently shoving a hand down his own pants.

“Sylvain...do you need…?” Dimitri wasn’t sure what to offer, just that it felt wrong to watch the person who did so much for him have to get off on their own.

“I’m good,” Sylvain assured him, biting his bottom lip as his hand worked furiously. Now there was a look that would be burned in Dimitri’s memory for eternity.

Unsatisfied with that answer, Dimitri pushed onto his side so he could reach out to touch Sylvain’s face in the same way Sylvain had done to him. Seemingly a reflex, Sylvain’s mouth fell open, panting heavily, and Dimitri thought he might like this expression even more.

“I hope you know how grateful I am for you,” he murmured, stroking his friend’s cheek. He leaned forward, resting their foreheads against one another. “No matter how much I scold, I meant what I said earlier. I trust you with my life, Sylvain.”

A harsh curse ripped from the redhead as he gritted his teeth, the sincerity of his prince’s completely non-sexual words pushing him right over the edge. He laughed as the rush of adrenaline left him, hysterical but happy.

“Man, you were really paying attention to what I said earlier, huh?” he said between breaths.

Dimitri huffed a little laugh of his own, caught up in Sylvain’s mirth. “I was always more studious than you. Not all of us can be naturals.”

Sylvain gave him a half-hearted punch in the arm. “I don’t know about that. You did pretty well for yourself there, Your Highness.” He winced when Dimitri immediately frowned. “Sorry, I meant Dimitri. I promised, no titles in the bedroom.”

“You say that like you expect for this to happen again.”

“I had a good time. You seemed to, too,” Sylvain reasoned, sounding far too composed given how Dimitri still felt. He wasn’t sure how Sylvain was already rolling out of bed, hunting for something to wipe them down with. “As long as neither of us is attached, I can’t see why it wouldn’t. Unless you don’t want to, of course. Not everyone is so good with the whole casual sex thing, and I know you have a lot more riding on your reputation than I do.”

Dimitri hummed. His brain wasn’t functioning nearly well enough to make that sort of decision right now. “If we do it again, will you teach me more?”

“I’ll teach you everything I know. Including how I was able to get you off so fast,” Sylvain replied with a wink and tossed a towel at him.

“I know enough about sex to realize it was likely due to my inexperience,” Dimitri countered as he snagged the towel from midair and swiped at his crusting skin. “I doubt you’d have the same result if you were to try it again.”

Sylvain smirked. “Don’t be so sure. Haven’t you ever heard the phrase ‘love is a battlefield’? You’re just picking up a weapon for the first time. It’ll take a while for you to be able to beat a seasoned pro like me.”

“I already did it with a spear. I can’t see why this would be any different.”

“Ouch, swinging below the belt already.” For all his complaining, Sylvain didn’t seem that bothered. He was already scooping up the laundry on the floor, folding it and setting it aside for Dimitri the next morning before tossing on his clothes. “There, all taken care of. No more worrying about anything else until morning, alright? I don’t want you undoing all my hard work.”

“...alright. It can wait until tomorrow.”

“Good to hear. And one last thing before I head back to my room…” Sylvain smiled at his prince, eyes sparkling with an honest affection he’d thought he long ago forgot how to feel. “I’ll be by your side whenever you need me, Dimitri. Always.”

**Author's Note:**

> For anyone wondering 'why on earth does this have the Emerald Moon verse tag on it?' the answer is - it's something that's assumed to have happened during the Academy phase. It hasn't come up at all in the main story (nor will it, so don't worry if you're reading that and this isn't your thing), but it's related to some post-War things I intend to write since that's where the sexual relationship(s) will be. I was going to wait to write this one-shot with more context once the main fic was done, but I needed a break from my usual writing, so here we are, haha.
> 
> Also yes, this does mean that in Emerald Moon, Dimitri has a Type, and it's possibly Sylvain's fault.


End file.
